The love that lingered

When those strong hands held me tight and those captivating eyes sunk into mine , I instantly agreed to spend with him a lifetime and beyond.

It was a dreamy fairy-tale wedding. I was his and he was mine till the end of time.

Amidst family , relatives and friends, we took the vow to be together for this and seven lives but he left for work to a foreign land on the seventh day of our wedding.

I cried , was upset,tried to stop him but all was in vain because “work was on top priority'

I stayed back here with my in laws , relatives and a dozen family friends.

I thought his place was irreplaceable in my life but someone else took advantage of his absence. Though I had avoided him as soon as I was engaged , he came back daunting in my life while my husband was away.

I met him in various forms wherever I went. Though at home I was spared when I said no ,but I was forced to be with him ,look at him and touch him when I went to a relative's or family friend's home.

I knew the repercussions would be undesirable but I kept falling for him again and again at every place I went. He creeped in my system and slowly but steadily became a part of me : both literally and figuratively.

How could have I avoided him anyways. He was a part of me and I was because of him. My companion of distress , my friend of joy , my instagrams , my display pic..........I was a fool to think I could do without him. And then came that fateful day , when it came near me dressed to perfection. I couldn't resist myself.

I leaned down to touch him , feel his soft buttery skin and then I brought him near me. I was not able to bear the few centimeters which lay between us and I touched him with my lips , this time with no inhibitions, unperturbed by the results ; it was pure love. I gulped it down in one go. It was pure bliss.

Though I had tasted parathas at different occasions and places , but the one immersed in ghee and applied with white unsalted butter this generously was something which only a Punjabi household could offer. The indigenous staple food of Punjab surely did its magic on me : emotionally and visibly.

With the love of my life , I always try to be healthy and eat healthy but the “away luxurious” time I got from him at home immediately after my wedding overflowed with starch , carbs and fat.

My Mother in law made sure I tasted every dish she knew of and my father in law made sure I ate everything which the food capital of India , Indore had to offer. Every relative had a “ Punjabi special” menu to offer , however dal makhani and parathe remained their timeless love.

Food at other places is talked only about thrice a day : breakfast , lunch and dinner. In a typical Punjabi household however , people can talk about food all day long. When ladies meet , they speak about how differently they made a paratha or how adding more ghee isn't harmful but strengthening.

Sentences like “ I was making palak kachori and was reminded of yours “ or “ Lets not go to her place, she doesn't make tasty parathe “ are commonly heard.

You aren't spared if you don't know how to cook. They will catch hold of you , train you and include you in the “aaj khana bada swaad bana hai” group.

People are so passionate about food that they even name their children after food : Honey ,Makhkhan ,ladoo,Pinni to name a few.

This tasteful journey is however about to end as I will go to my husband in a couple of days but the love which I have received in these days is showing up on me. Now that I have eaten to my heart's content, learnt to cook and force people to eat , I am all game to shower this love on my beloved husband on a foreign land. Afterall,

“To love is to feed”